


Anything

by toyhto



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, But Dark, Dubious Consent, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:20:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22400206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toyhto/pseuds/toyhto
Summary: "I would let you do anything to me", Jaskier had said when they had first gotten together. "And I’d still trust you." And he had wanted Geralt to do things, many things. But this was too much.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 10
Kudos: 252





	Anything

**Author's Note:**

> About the dub-con content: there's no non-con stuff in this story, but the dub-con is definitely a theme, so consider yourself warned.
> 
> This is a small dark-ish story in which Jaskier is hurt and Geralt doesn't know what to do to fix him. You can say hi to me on [tumblr](http://toyhto.tumblr.com)!

_Anything,_ Jaskier had said. But surely he hadn’t meant _this_.  
  
“Geralt,” Jaskier was saying now. That seemed to be about the only thing that he was capable of saying. He was shivering even though Geralt had wrapped him in every blanket he could find, and when Jaskier tried to grab Geralt’s wrist, Geralt didn’t even have to pull to get his arm free. A simple tap on the back of Jaskier’s hand was enough.  
  
At least Jaskier’s eyes were clear.  
  
“Geralt,” Jaskier said. He sounded like he had fever. He didn’t, though. Geralt had tried his forehead at least ten times in the past hour he had had Jaskier safely in the bed of this tiny room in an inn in a village he would have never bothered to stop by in normal circumstances. But this had been the closest place where he could bring Jaskier after he had pulled Jaskier out of the icy water at the frozen lake.  
  
It wasn’t because of the water, though. He was quite sure about that. Jaskier had been in the water for maybe ten seconds. That wasn’t why he couldn’t say anything besides Geralt’s name, and why he couldn’t do anything but try to touch Geralt.  
  
For two hours. That was for how long he had been lost. For two hours, after they had fallen asleep by the campfire and someone had charmed Geralt and taken Jaskier and then left him at the frozen lake where Geralt had found him.  
  
“Geralt,” Jaskier said, running his fingers clumsily on Geralt’s arm like he was trying to make certain Geralt was there. “Come _on._ ”  
  
“Quiet,” Geralt said, but he said it nicely. Or so he hoped. Sometimes he thought he didn’t know how to be nice to anyone, and eventually, he would fuck this up like he fucked everything up. He would do something cruel and stupid by accident or, which was worse, purposely because he would think he had to. Jaskier would leave him and go find someone else, a human, someone who could laugh and cry and _age._ “Be quiet,” he said, leaning in closer and stroking Jaskier’s hair as lightly as he could. “You have to sleep. I’m not going to fuck you.”  
  
Jaskier bit his lip.  
  
 _I would let you do anything to me_ , Jaskier had said when they had first gotten together. _And I’d still trust you._ And he had wanted Geralt to do things, many things. But this was too much.  
  
“Please,” Jaskier said. His voice was hoarse. “You… promised.”  
  
Geralt cleared his throat. He had promised Jaskier a lot. He had promised to buy Jaskier a horse. He had promised they would go and see the sea. He had promised he would let Jaskier braid his hair.  
  
“You promised,” Jaskier said again. Maybe he was getting better. Or maybe he was getting more desperate. “Promised… fuck me.”  
  
“No,” Geralt said. “That’s not… that was something I said when we were fucking. That’s not a real promise.”  
  
Jaskier stared at him as if to say that Geralt was wrong and they both knew it. Geralt didn’t promise things he didn’t mean.  
  
“There’s something wrong with you,” Geralt said. “I don’t trust you. I can’t trust you until you can tell me what happened.”  
  
“Geralt,” Jaskier said. He sounded sad.  
  
“I can lie down in the bed with you,” Geralt said and then started taking off his clothes. “But that’s all. That’s all for tonight.” He stripped out of everything and then lay down next to Jaskier and pulled the blankets on them. Jaskier shifted closer to him and tried to touch his dick. He grabbed Jaskier’s wrist and put his hand back. “Stop that.”  
  
Jaskier sighed and then tried to touch his dick again.  
  
Maybe Geralt would have had more patience if he hadn’t been certain for fucking two hours that he had lost Jaskier for good. Maybe if he hadn’t been thinking about every possible scenario in which someone might have tortured Jaskier and killed Jaskier, he would have had it in him to just grab Jaskier’s hand again and put it back where it belonged, nicely, patiently, like he was supposed to. Or maybe it was just that no matter what he did, there was always something in him he couldn’t quite reach, some tiny dark place that he couldn’t control. He didn’t even know if they had put it in there when they had created him, or if it was just who he was, deep down.  
  
He grabbed both of Jaskier’s wrists, then climbed on Jaskier and pressed him against the bed. “I said _stop that._ ”  
  
“It’s alright,” Jaskier said, wriggling under Geralt. As if he could do anything. As if he could ever have a chance at throwing Geralt off.  
  
Maybe if Geralt wasn’t so fucking hard, he could think a little. Then he would think this over and realize that there was no way he could be certain Jaskier knew what he was doing. They should wait for morning. They should wait for however long it was going to take for Jaskier to recover from this.  
  
Geralt took a deep breath and then realized that Jaskier was now touching his own cock.  
  
“Don’t,” he said without thinking, “don’t, don’t do that. You aren’t… you aren’t good.”  
  
“You have to,” Jaskier said and took a deep breath, his hand still on his cock. “Let me… do _something._ ”  
  
“Not that.”  
  
“ _Geralt._ ”  
  
“What did they do to you?” Geralt asked, leaning heavier against Jaskier. It should have been enough that he was here, naked and warm and big and pressing Jaskier down against the bed so heavily he was a little worried it might hurt, but he couldn’t stop it. He took Jaskier’s hand again and slammed it against the mattress, and Jaskier’s fingers curved a little. “And who? Why didn’t I see anyone? Why are you like that? You need to _tell me._ ”  
  
“…can’t,” Jaskier said.  
  
“I won’t let you touch yourself.”  
  
“Fuck me,” Jaskier said, watching him.  
  
“No.”  
  
Jaskier took a shaky breath.  
  
“I’m not a monster,” Geralt said and kissed him on the mouth. “I’m not a fucking monster. I’m not going to fuck you when you’re like this.”  
  
“I said,” Jaskier said, “ _anything._ And you said…”  
  
“Anything.”  
  
Jaskier stared at him.  
  
But Geralt hadn’t mean this. Certainly he hadn’t mean this, he was sure of that, but he ran his palm down on Jaskier’s chest anyway. He had been afraid he would find Jaskier cut open, lying somewhere. He had been afraid he would find Jaskier burned or ripped to pieces or emptied with a curse which left the body but took away the soul. He had been afraid he wouldn’t find Jaskier at all.  
  
He wrapped his fingers around Jaskier’s cock and the sound Jaskier made went straight to his.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he said and kissed Jaskier on the mouth, then on the neck, because Jaskier was breathing heavily and didn’t kiss him back. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m -”  
  
He had never meant this to happen. He hadn’t meant to touch Jaskier in the first place. After he had realized that he wanted to, he had kept his distance. But it had been impossible. Jaskier had always been there, always warm and happy and alive and so _human_ it hurt Geralt in places he had thought he had lost a long time ago. And Jaskier had wanted Geralt to touch him.  
  
Not now, though. He thought about that and his touch on Jaskier’s cock grew bolder. It wouldn’t take long. Jaskier would come and sleep and in the morning everything would be alright.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he said and kissed Jaskier’s shoulder. There was a scar in there that Jaskier had got from a ghoul Geralt had been a little too slow to kill. Jaskier always said it made him look tougher. Geralt thought it made him look like he had let the wrong person into his life and into his bed.  
  
“No,” Jaskier said. He was trying to fuck into Geralt’s hand but Geralt kept his hips pushed against the bed. “Not… sorry.”  
  
“Don’t talk.”  
  
“I’m not…” Jaskier said, breathing so hard Geralt was afraid he couldn’t take it. Not afraid enough to stop, though. “…sorry.”  
  
“You don’t know that,” Geralt said. “You can’t possibly know what I’m going to do to you. You can’t. I don’t. Because my life is…” He sped up his hand. Jaskier was shaking. “My life is nothing. And I brought you in. And I don’t have a fucking clue about all the suffering I’m going to put you through.”  
  
“Stop,” Jaskier said. “I… love…”  
  
“You shouldn’t love me,” Geralt said. “You shouldn’t.”  
  
“…idiot. Fuck me.”  
  
“I’m not going to fuck you,” Geralt said and then realized he had stopped his hand. “I’m _not._ That’s madness. You can’t possibly want that.”  
  
“Shut up,” Jaskier said.  
  
Geralt kissed him on the mouth. His eyes were clear. If there had been a curse… if there had been a charm… surely Geralt would have seen it in his eyes.  
  
“Now,” Jaskier said.  
  
“You don’t mean that,” Geralt said, but he sat down in between Jaskier’s thighs anyway. He wasn’t going to fuck Jaskier, but he spread Jaskier’s knees and then lifted him up and settled in his own lap. He wasn’t going to fuck Jaskier. Not now. But he pushed two fingers in in one swift movement and the sound Jaskier made was a mixture of pain and pleasure, he was certain of it, he was certain it was mostly pleasure. _Anything_ , Jaskier had said.  
  
“Trust me,” Jaskier said now.  
  
“I can’t,” Geralt said, then put his hands on Jaskier’s hips. He wasn’t going to -  
  
He pushed in. Jaskier took a deep breath that sounded like something shattering, and Geralt closed his eyes. He could taste his heartbeat in his mouth. He could feel Jaskier’s hearbeat in his cock. And everything else just faded into darkness, and he had never liked himself, he had never loved himself, and he could never, he was this dark thing who kept choosing the wrong bad and couldn’t even protect the one person he loved in this world.  
  
“Geralt,” Jaskier said, his fingers setting clumsily on Geralt’s arm. “Geralt. _Geralt._ ”  
  
Geralt tried to fuck him as gently as he could but that wasn’t much. He was slow, though. He was so slow he thought his mind would break down, but then again, maybe it already had. Certainly it had. He couldn’t possibly have lived this long without fallen into pieces time after time, and what was left of him wasn’t enough. It was never going to be enough for Jaskier. It was never going to be enough for anyone who would only have one lifetime to do mistakes and grow strange to themselves.  
  
He came with a grunt and buried himself inside Jaskier even though he shouldn’t have, because Jaskier was probably hurting, and probably didn’t want Geralt, probably didn’t want to see Geralt ever again. It was Geralt’s fault that Jaskier had been hurt.  
  
He realized only vaguely that Jaskier was trying to jerk himself off and he was still laying on Jaskier, his cum inside him, his arms keeping Jaskier in place.  
  
“Don’t,” Jaskier said when Geralt moved, but he pulled out anyway. Then he replaced Jaskier’s hand with his own and jerked him off as slowly as he could, because normally that was what Jaskier wanted. Normally, Jaskier talked through it and about everything and asked Geralt to do everything. Now Geralt held his breath and Jaskier came into his hand silently, like a broken thing, except for his eyes that were staring at Geralt as if he knew what Geralt was thinking.  
  
“I don’t know what to do,” Geralt said and lay down in the bed beside him.  
  
Jaskier shifted a little closer to him.  
  
“I’m too broken for this,” Geralt said and took him in his arms, drew him as close as he could and kissed the top of his head. Jaskier was breathing in a steady rhythm now. “I’m too broken for anyone. I think I should’ve loved someone sooner. I can’t do it anymore.”  
  
“Bollocks,” Jaskier said onto his neck.  
  
“I could get you killed. You’re more valuable than anything I’ve ever had, and I could get you killed so easily.”  
  
“…trust you,” Jaskier said. “Anything.”  
  
“I won’t let you die.”  
  
“I won’t let…” Jaskier took a deep breath, “…stop living.”  
  
Geralt wanted to tell him he was an idiot. Geralt wanted to tell him life didn’t mean much to him anymore, not after all this time. It was like with every year that passed there was a little less of him left. He wanted to tell Jaskier nothing would mean more than keeping Jaskier safe, not ever again. He wanted to tell Jaskier what it had been like to lift him up from the icy water and not know for a second if he was alive or dead.  
  
But his hands and legs were heavy and his heart had been carved empty and he felt like crying but couldn’t remember how, and there was cum on his thighs – his own – and on his hand – mostly Jaskier’s – and it had been a long time since he had been as afraid as tonight.  
  
He fell asleep.  
  
  
**  
  
  
There was a streak of daylight on the blanket, and next to it, Jaskier was staring at him.  
  
Geralt cleared his throat. Then he sat up in the bed. Then he thought about what he would do if Jaskier told him to fuck off now. Would he argue? Or would he just go?  
  
“It’s alright,” Jaskier said. “You didn’t hurt me. It’s alright, Geralt.”  
  
Geralt stared at him for a few seconds and then let out a breath he hadn’t known he had been holding. It sounded a little like a cry.


End file.
